


Playtime Eternal

by CradleD



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Consensual Underage Sex, Content approved by SCAR, Ejaculate, Incest, M/M, Monster sex, Monster x Shota, Parent/Child Incest, Shotacon, Tentacles, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26976769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CradleD/pseuds/CradleD
Summary: Timmy loves having fun with his father in the bathroom.  Little does he know, a secret inhabitant wants to join in the fun...
Relationships: father/son - Relationship
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57
Collections: Sin Corps





	Playtime Eternal

“Mmmph… Mmmph… Mmmmph… Mmmmmph…” 

Clapping sounds filled the small bathroom at a steady cadence. These sounds, combined with Timmy’s moans, worried John. He already had a hard time keeping the small boy quiet, his hand clamped on those small lips. The sandy blonde boy’s moaning threatened to rouse his mother, Mary, who watched tv in the living room. “Fuck,” John whispered in between thrusts. He realized he didn’t care. The pleasure outweighed the risk, and he was in too deep. Timmy’s waist reddened, the skin rubbing against the sink’s marble finish. John breathed harder as he thrusted in and out of his son’s rectum. The clapping got louder as he reached climax. A deep sigh escaped John’s mouth as his semen burst into his 8-year-old son’s belly.

Warmth filled Timmy’s stomach, making the boy moan hard into his father’s calloused hand. The pressure within him peaked and he experienced his first dry orgasm. His reproductive system was not yet developed enough for him to produce semen. The orgasm sent him to outer space, nonetheless. He felt like he was floating above a pool of cool blue water. Two final claps echoed off the bathroom walls. John slipped his dick out of Timmy’s anus, which twitched shut. Small droplets of cum to oozed out before the hole closed. Timmy lay his head on the sink table and closed his eyes, panting. His dry ejaculation exhausted him. The pool of his Daddy’s love sat in his stomach, waiting to spill back out the way it came.

“Fuck me, son!” John said, breathing hard. “You’ve got a tighter pussy than your mother’s when I squirted you into her. And she was tight, by God.” John wiped drops of cum from the tip of his penis with a square of toilet paper and pulled his pants up. His ears pricked. He heard Mary rise from the couch and ascend the stairs. John thought quickly. He leaned down and kissed Timmy on the cheek. The boy blushed. “Listen, son,” John said. “I need you to lock the door as soon as Daddy walks out of the bathroom, ok? Don’t open it for anything and say what we practiced, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Timmy said softly.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” John said. He kissed his son on the mouth briefly and walked out of the bathroom door. He shut it quietly just as Mary came within earshot.

“Is everything all right?” she asked. “I heard some noises…”

“I know, me too,” John said, making a few knocks on the door. “Timmy? Son, are you okay in there?”

“I’m fine, Daddy,” Timmy called back. John smiled to himself. That’s my boy. Timmy was smart for his age. The boy amazed, and aroused, John every day with the wits in that young brain. John had a thing for smart people. “Well, what happened?”

“I tripped… a lot of bottles fell,” Timmy said. “I picked them up, though.”

“Well, don’t hurt yourself, sweetie,” Mary said. She gave John a worried look. John smiled, melting Mary’s concerns. “He’s alright, hon,” he said. “Come on, let’s get back to the living room.” The parents retired, leaving their 8-year-old to relieve himself.

Timmy sighed as he sat on the toilet and his father’s cum drained back out of his butthole. Large globs of semen made heavy drops that plopped into the toilet water. The satisfaction from relieving himself of the semen was second only to feeling he experienced from his dry orgasm. He thought it was the best he had ever felt. His father had never played with him like that before. They had played in other ways, but his Dad told him this time was special. There was some pain when they started, and Timmy almost wanted his Dad to stop. Then a whirlwind of feelings flooded the boy and he began to love every second of his father’s penis ramming in and out of his tight hole. He hoped they would play like that again. The thought of his father’s girth shoving into him made his heart race. The last of the cum drained from Timmy’s rectum and he wiped his butt clean. He flushed, stood up, and put on his pajama pants. 

As he washed his hands, Timmy tried to think of a costume to wear for Halloween. He wanted to be Batman, but he wore that costume last year and thought he should be Wolverine instead. He would have to ask his parents for a Wolverine costume, though. If he asked nicely enough, however, his Daddy would buy it for him. Skipping with excitement, Timmy dried his hands and hopped out of the bathroom, flicking off the light switch as he went.

A greedy eye observed from inside the sink drain. It saw everything that went on in that bathroom from the moment John hungrily carried the boy inside to when Timmy exited and turned off the light. “Mmmmm,” A voice growled in the darkness, “This meat looks delicious…”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Timmy bounced in the bus seat and hummed to himself. He was pleased after winning an argument with his friend, Josh, over whether Batman or Wolverine would win in a fight. The only logical answer to the question, Timmy thought, was Wolverine, of course. How on Earth could Batman beat a man that could cut people to ribbons with metal claws and heal almost instantly from any wound he sustained? The argument was heated, but Timmy prevailed, to his satisfaction. He sat humming a song cheerfully while Josh sat next to him and pouted, his arms folded.

The bus exhaled steam as it slowed to a stop in front of Timmy’s house. After saying goodbye to Josh, who muttered his reply, Timmy skipped out of the bus. He ran up to his front doorstep as the bus lurched away. His parents’ cars were not in the driveway. Though he was slightly disappointed that he had to wait to play with his father, he shrugged and decided he could get his homework done while he waited for his parents to get home. Using the spare key under the welcome mat, he entered house. A dark, musty odor greeted him as he walked inside.

Closing the front door, Timmy wrinkled his nose and blew some air out, trying to expel the foreign smells. They remained. A trace of his father hung in that odor, which confused him. “Dad?” he called. 

A pause. 

“Come to the bathroom, son,” John’s voice sounded. The voice resonated throughout the whole house. Timmy tilted his head and scratched the back of his scalp. How was his father home if his car was not in the driveway? Perhaps Mommy took Daddy’s car, but then Mommy’s car would be in the driveway. The inconsistencies made Timmy pause a moment longer before calling out, “Where are you?”

“I’m in the bathroom. Don’t you wanna play with me? Like we did last night?”

Timmy smiled. He thought of the playtime from the previous night. His heart pounded in excitement. He dropped his backpack and ran upstairs. The musty odor strengthened the closer he got to the bathroom, slowing his footsteps. The stench reached its peak in front of the door. Finding it hard to breath, Timmy pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Did you shower yet, Daddy?”

The smell vanished in a second, replaced by the sound of a fan. “Of course, sweetheart,” John said from behind the door. “I had just finished showering and just needed to turn the fan on.” Timmy noticed something odd about his father’s voice. There was a wetness, as though his Dad gargled every word. However, the voice was his father’s; that much was unmistakable. The boy thought his father must be sick. 

“Are you ok, Daddy? Your voice sounds weird.”

A pause. “You’re right, son, I do feel a little under the weather today,” John said. “That’s why I came home early. Our neighbor was kind enough to take my car to go get some Tylenol from Walmart.” He paused again. “Do you think you could come in and give me hug, son?”

Timmy smiled. Now everything made sense. Of course, someone else had taken his Dad’s car. There could be no other explanation. “Ok, Daddy!” the boy chirped. He shot his hand to the doorknob and opened the door.

The door was cracked open a few inches when something wet and slimy wrapped around the boy’s exposed wrist. It was a dark green tentacle, moist with a clear liquid. Timmy screamed and tried to pull away, but the tentacle’s grasp on his wrist was too great. The member thickened and opened the rest of the door to reveal the monstrosity inside. It held the shape of a man that looked distorted, as though he were made of clay and someone squeezed and extended random parts of him. One large eye sat in a thickly veined socket where the head would be. Tentacles of various lengths extended from misshapen thing, gyrating and slithering about.

Timmy’s blood-curdling scream pierced the musty air before it was silenced in an instant. A tentacle wrapped around the boy’s throat and mouth, cutting off his vocal cords. He tried in vain to pull away as more tentacles wrapped around the boy’s body and pulled him into the bathroom. Another moist member shut the door once the monster pulled the struggling boy all the way inside.

The monster worked, tearing Timmy’s clothes off as its thick tendrils lay him on the floor. The naked boy continued to struggle through the tentacles that bound his arms and legs together, his muffled screams punctuating his squirms. Terror seized him as the monster bent down, taking a closer look at the boy. Unable to comprehend what he was seeing, Timmy shut his eyes, hoping he was in a nightmare. Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup, his mind shouted at himself. A wet sensation from his rear forced his eyes back open. His legs were thrust upward, putting his body in an L-shape, and a tentacle lathered its greasy slime in between his butt cheeks. He realized that this was no dream. This was real. Timmy screamed as loud as the tentacles closed around his throat and mouth would allow, scratching his trachea. The same member that slicked his butt now poked his anus, entering slightly.

“Hmmmm, you are an interesting one, boy,” the monster said. “None of my other prey have lasted this long. Most faint or die of fright upon seeing me.” No longer carrying the voice of his father, the thing’s dark, low voice gargled every word, slurring its speech so that what it said was barely understood.

The monster scanned Timmy’s body again, moving its eye up and down as its tentacle slid further into the boy’s rectum. “I think I’ll play with you a little before I eat you,” it said. “I do love playing with my food.” The tentacles unbound Timmy’s legs and rewrapped around them, spreading them out in a V-shape. The tentacle inside now slid further into the anus with ease. 

Timmy could no longer scream, his vocal cords exhausted. A wave of pleasure exploded within from the tentacle’s insertion, accentuating his terror. Fear and pleasure played a tug of war with the young boy’s mind. He could no longer think rationally. He gasped as the tentacle that was holding his mouth shut slackened. It released his mouth for a second before thrusting into Timmy’s parted lips and shoving its way down his throat. The boy could barely breath through his nose. The tentacle in his ass thrusted in and out the way his father had done, sliding the 8-year-old body back and forth on the floor. The thrusting plunged Timmy into an ocean of ecstasy. He moaned, immersed in the pleasure of the monster’s tendrils.

The member that was inside the boy’s ass forced his rectal wall open wide and hit his prostate several times. Timmy tried to scream again but the tentacles locked his throat from the outside and the inside. He was no longer capable of audible sound. His eyes fluttered into their sockets as he came. His penis pulsed violently, attempting to expel cum that was not yet formed. The monster observed this reaction, intrigued. 

“Ooooh, you are very fun,” it said. “I don’t think I’ll eat you just yet. I like playing with you.”

The monster continued to thrust its tentacle in and out of the boy’s anus, assaulting his g-spot repeatedly. The boy came several more times over the next hour. The monster then covered Timmy’s penis with a stray tentacle and filled the boy’s urethra with blue liquid. Energy filled Timmy’s body. His eyes widened as all exhaustion left him. He squirmed under the grasp of the tentacles, wanting more pleasure. He felt he could cum a thousand more times.

“Oh, I like you too much,” the monster said. “This blue energy will keep you from getting older. I can satisfy my hunger with other meals. You will now be my plaything. Forever.”

Timmy closed his eyes. Pleasure wrapped him in its warm embrace as his thoughts, memories, and personality faded away.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

John arrived home drained. The office drowned him in paperwork that day. He needed two things: a beer and his son. He might be able to have both at the same time. The thought of plugging Timmy’s ass again like the previous night made him horny. He saw that Mary was not home yet. He was able to get some quality time in with his son before she got home. Delighted, he shut off his car’s engine and lugged his briefcase out of the passenger seat. As he walked to the door, a strange musty odor tickled his nostrils. He sniffed his armpits and thought he must have sweat during his long hours at the office.

When he opened the front door, which was unlocked, the smell slapped him in the face. He coughed, seeing the inside of his house through a dim haze. “What in God’s name is-”

“Hi, Daddy.”

Timmy appeared in front of John as if he had popped out of thin air. Shocked, but happy to see his son, John said, “Tim, son, what on Earth is that smell? Did you roll around in mud or something?” Timmy smiled at his father. “Something like that,” he said. The young boy lifted his shirt, exposing his smooth belly. “Can I have a bath, Daddy?” Timmy underlined the question by pulling his shorts down just enough to expose his erect penis.

The sight of his son’s sexy young body made John forget all about the smell. He closed the front door and said, “Oh, so you want more playtime with Daddy. Don’t worry, son, we still have time before your mother gets home.” John loosened his tie and swept his son up into his arms, kissing him. A swampy, musty tase entered John’s mouth as he shoved his tongue down Timmy’s throat. Ignoring the taste, he carried his boy up the stairs, his cock throbbing under his work slacks. As he reached the bathroom door, the odor reached its peak and John could hardly breath. He put his son down and waved at the air.

“Sorry, son,” he said. “I just need a minute.”

“It’s ok, Daddy,” Timmy said. “I have a surprise for you.” Then John noticed how Timmy’s voice sounded. Like he gargled every word. Vexed, John looked down at Timmy. “Are you feeling ok, son?”

Timmy smiled again at his father. “I feel fine, Daddy. And you will too.” The boy opened the bathroom door. John had little time to scream before darkness swallowed him and he knew no more. The thing that was once Timmy giggled as he watched his new master devour his father. 

END

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